


"Fuck You" Flowers

by ThePurpleStarfish



Series: Kurooaka Week [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi pov, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, First Meetings, M/M, Tattoos, akaashi owns a flowershop, horrible tattoos, kuroo makes awful decisions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 03:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7204163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePurpleStarfish/pseuds/ThePurpleStarfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi enjoys owning a flower shop. The mornings are quiet, relaxing, and predictable.</p><p>That is, until Kuroo Tetsurou comes barging in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Fuck You" Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt "Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says 'How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?'" by demisexualmerrill on tumblr.

If Keiji hadn't known any better, he would have thought he had opened a therapy clinic instead of a flower shop. The amount of people who would come in and ask for specific flower meanings was unbelievable. And as Keiji would pick the carefully chosen flowers, the customer would droll on and on about whatever had driven them to pick up flowers. Sometimes it would be for a wedding, or maybe an apology, Keiji had heard it all. He would hum when it was appropriate, cutting the stems of the flowers short so they could fit in the packaging, and listen to the story about how a man had to get flowers for a first date, or whatever tale of misfortune the person had.

He should probably charge extra for the service.

Keiji's favorite part of the day was the early mornings just before the shop opened. Alright, maybe not the early morning part, but the stillness before the rush of people was a plus. At six in the morning, Keiji flipped the closed sign to 'OPEN' and then went over to resupply the stock of flowers. Ten minutes later, while Keiji was putting thorn-less roses into the display, the bell to the front door rang to alert him that someone was there.

“Good morning,” Keiji started, his heavy lidded eyes moving to look at the person who had entered. He was about to continue when a powerful smack hit the counter.

“How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?”

The man standing at the front register was disheveled, his hair sticking up from what Keiji assumed was a horrible case of bed head, and he looked like he had slept in the clothes from the previous night. The dark colored, knitted sweater was rumpled and loose while the collared shirt underneath was crooked with one side of the collar sticking up at his neck. He looked tired, but he mostly looked hungover. Briefly, Keiji thought that this man was attractive, but pushed it away. He could think that on his own time.

Tentatively, Keiji turned towards the disorderly man and began softly, unsure whether or not this person was still drunk from his previous night's activities. He really did not have the patience to eal with a drunk customer this early in the morning. “That depends on what you mean by passive-aggressively.”

“I want him to know I hate him, but I can't let anyone know I hate him,” the man continued, looking around the shop for the flower he wanted until he pointed over to the wall near the flowering mammillaria. “What about a cactus? I can tell him he's a prick. It even has a crown. The king of pricks.”

Keiji snorted and walked over to the man, noting the twenty dollars on the counter. “Actually, cacti are used for encouragement, so unless you want him to continue to do what he's doing-”

“Oh God no.”

“Then I would suggest something else.” Keiji walked behind the register and pulled out a card. “What would you like the card to say?”

“Dear Daishou, have fun in your future and good luck with your wife, you snake fucker, Kuroo Tetsurou.”

Keiji wrote what he was told, smirking down at the card. “Alright, Kuroo-san, I think I have a few ideas that might help you.”

The man, Kuroo, sighed in relief and looked over to Keiji with his tired, bedroom eyes. “Thanks,” he squinted, reading the name tag on the green apron. “Akaashi.”

A faint blush warmed over his cheeks as Keiji slid the card over to the side, saving it for later. “That's what I'm here for, Kuroo-san”

“Kuroo is fine,” he waved off, standing up straight and leaving the twenty on the counter. Keiji hummed and signaled for Kuroo to follow him. When they were over by the assortment of flowers, Keiji shifted his gaze over to Kuroo. His aggression towards this 'Daishou' probably had something to do with his messy appearance, but he couldn't be sure.

“So, Kuroo, what happened to make someone get on your bad side?” Keiji plucked out a flower from the bin, looking up for some more with similar meanings.

“He's actually been on my bad side,” he started, his fists tightening, “but I think last night took the cake.” Keiji nodded, waiting for the man to continue. “Daishou and I actually go way back. In high school, we were together for a few months, but not much longer than that.” Keiji was slightly taken aback by his openness, but it didn't show on his face. “We had a bad falling out, we didn't talk for years.

Then, a couple of months ago, I get a letter. It was a wedding invitation. I automatically thought it was a joke, but then when it hit me that it wasn't, I wanted to burn it.” Keiji chuckled softly and pulled another flower. “But, being the nice person I was, I said I'd go. Marked the little plus one so I could bring my friend to poke fun of Daishou with them. And as if that weren't enough, the dick invited me to his bachelor party. Dick move, right?”

“Completely.”

“Exactly. Anyways, I went. The food was great, and the drinks were better.” Kuroo had started to slow down his story, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“So you got drunk,” Keiji concluded, “and did something you shouldn't have?”

“Yeah, and I decided to go along with what Daishou was saying. I was an idiot, I know, who would trust their ex who they haven't spoken to in years? My dumb ass, apparently. We all went out and then we stumbled upon a tattoo parlor...”

“You did not.”

“Oh, but I did.” Kuroo sighed, looking over at Keiji, probably expecting some sort of sympathy. Instead, all he got was a devilish smile and a nod that urged him to continue, even though they both knew exactly where it was headed. Surprised, Kuroo huffed a laugh and did as instructed. “I got a tattoo. A really, really bad tattoo.”

Holding a few flowers in his hand, Keiji looked to meet Kuroo's eyes, fighting off a shiver that threatened to make its way up his back. Kuroo's eyes were still sleepy, but the natural sharpness was starting to shine through, taking in everything in their path. “So these are your revenge?”

“Yeah, 'cause gag gifts were too much, and when I asked my friend, Oikawa, at five this morning, all he said was 'destroy him', but I did just wake him up. Either way, his wife-to-be is too sweet for that. I couldn't do that to her. Flowers are nice though, and only he would have to know. Plus, he's allergic to pollen.”

“That's...pretty smart.”

“You sound surprised.”

“You're the one who got a bad tattoo from your ex while drunk,” jabbed Keiji.

“Wow, hurtful.”

Keiji hid his snigger as he walked over to the counter and placed the assortment of flowers across the desk. “Before I continue,” he placed his hands at both ends of the line of flowers, “I want to see the tattoo.”

Kuroo's eyes widen in bewilderment, obviously not expecting the man's proposition. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Tattoo or you're left to your own devices.”

“Akaashi, I would have never taken you for the insidious type.” Keiji shrugged, waiting for him to show off the hideous tattoo. Left with no other choice, Kuroo sighed in defeat before tugging at his shirt.

Keiji didn't know where this was going, but he liked it.

Kuroo pulled off the sweater over his head, leaving the red collared shirt as he placed the other shirt on the counter. Sighing, the taller man turned around and lifted the shirt from the bottom, exposing his lower back.

Well, it was certainly something.

Just above his tailbone, Kuroo had a crude drawing of a cat, if it could be called that. It looked like a childish rendition of one. The body was an oval with four lines coming from it, and one wavy one that Keiji assumed was the tail. The head, which was separated from the body by a few centimeters, had black circles for eyes, three lines for whiskers on each side of the mouth, and triangle ears. Keiji had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

“Well,” he started, a small giggle escaping him as he reached out and touched the ears, “at least the triangles are even.”

He could feel Kuroo tense for a moment, but then relax under his touch. Quickly, he put his shirt back down, forcing Keiji to pull his hand away. Pink had colored Kuroo's cheeks as he turned around to face the man behind the counter. “Yeah, thank god for that.”

Keiji laughed quietly, tucking one curl behind his ear, and started going down the row. “This is a begonia; they're usually used as a warning for things to come. Next is the yellow carnation, and they literally mean 'you disappoint me' or some sort of rejection.” Kuroo snorted, his eyes following Keiji's finger as it moved to the next one. “An orange lily means hatred, and then these snapdragons mean deception. If you want to get them all, you could add one yellow zinnia since they mean daily remembrance. That way they all tie together and they would remind him that you mean this everyday.”

“Perfect.” Kuroo had a sly smirk on his face, looking over all of the flowers. “I'll take two of everything, and then one of those yellow zina things.”

“Zinnia,” Keiji corrected, giving him a teasing smile as he rung up the flowers. “That will be forty five dollars.”

Kuroo made an audible choking sound, looking over the flowers. “I have a twenty...If you could hold onto them, I could run back and grab my wallet at my apartment. I mean, you know-”

“It's fine.” Keiji snatched the twenty from the table and placed it in the cash register.

“You can't be serious. That's literally less than half of what I owe you,” Kuroo furrowed his brows together in confusion.

“Well, you said you had more in your wallet, right?” Kuroo nodded, still not following. The shorter man took a deep breath. If not now, then never. “Then you can come back later around one and treat me to lunch.”

Kuroo stared for a moment, slowly making the connection as Keiji's cheeks started to turn pink. “Oh. OH. Yeah, yeah, I could do that. I will do that.”

Keiji smiled, appreciating that he wasn't the only one who was blushing brightly. “Good, well, you know where to find me.” He walked over to the bins again and pulled one more of each flower in order to complete the arrangement. As he wrapped the flowers in the plastic, he could feel Kuroo watching him, but it wasn't uncomfortable. When Keiji looked up, he saw the sly grin from earlier had been replaced with a genuine, adorable smile. “I'll see you later, Kuroo.”

“Yeah, I'll see you later,” Kuroo waved, gathering up the flowers. For a split second, he had looked over to the bouquet, his eyebrows pinched together.

“Kuroo?”

“Yeah?”

“You do remember what those mean, right? I don't think I would offer them to a date.”

“Oh, right,” he laughed, running his fingers through his hair. Keiji watched as the messy clumps fell right back into place. Maybe it wasn't bed head after all. Kuroo made his way out of the store, throwing one last glance behind him with a smile, almost walking into the door frame.

Keiji chuckled as he watched, leaning on the counter with one hand cradling his chin. “what a dork.”

For the rest of the day, Keiji had a smile spread over his lips. By the end of the day, he had a whole new appreciation for shitty tattoos and drunken decisions.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this fic :) I hope you're having a good time in rare ship hell, I know I am.


End file.
